When the wind blows Leaves fall,
a trail of scarlet or gold, of brown or yellow
Your blessings fall on us like autumn leaves.
Floating past or swirling round or making piles of glory.
Let us leap into the piles of your blessings,
God Let us breathe in the rich scent of your blessings.
Let us touch the crackling reality of your blessings
Let us live in those blessings every day.
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